


Treasured Scars

by Deadly Night_Sh1ft (CrookedMath)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angels, Biting, Choking, Coffin sex, Decapitation, Disembowelment, Dismemberment, F/M, Fighting As Foreplay, Insanity, Lust, Memory Alteration, Minor Character Death, Reapers, Romance, Rough Sex, Scars, Smut, Temporary Character Death, Trichophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 11:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6282397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedMath/pseuds/Deadly%20Night_Sh1ft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running in an imperfect circle for centuries finally breaks her. The past she wants to remember finds her and takes her in. A sense of familiarity sparks between the two of them and so much more, however, both parties have unrevealed secrets that neither can part with. At least not yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***I do not own Kuroshitsuji or its characters. I only own my OC(s) and story***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

I'm walking around in the cemetery observing various comings and goings of people, animals, and whatever else happens to be around. It's so lovely here...and quiet. I can be left alone and nobody cares. It's fulfilling to know that the dead are the most respectful people around. I'm nearing a particular grave stone - monument is more accurate - unique from the others in the cemetery. An angel and demon entwined in a lover's embrace of eroded stone that could be decades or centuries old, I'm not even sure anymore. I couldn't even begin to guess what their genders originally were since the surface had been so badly scarred by the rain and wind of jolly old England. Yet, as I stop to admire the monument's beauty a heavy rain began to fall. I need to find a place to wait it out and fast!

"Damn," I said aloud to no one and nothing in particular. "This is certainly unexpected." I let out an irritated sigh. Just as I turned to leave I bumped into what appeared to be a tall man dressed in black with long silver hair. I hit my head hard enough to hear an audible crack when it impacted the monument. I tried to regain my footing, but a sudden wave of dizziness had me reeling backwards as I slipped in the rain soaked grass. I cracked a ghost of a smile at the man that I could swear I heard laughing at me as everything went black.

'Laughing at pain, I see? I love it.'

I came to after what felt like months, my head aching and dazed from the fall. By the feel of it, I surmised that I was in a coffin, and I was no longer in my regular clothing. Instead, I'm wearing what appears to be a mortician's robe. I can't tell, it's too dark, and my head isn't clear yet. The robe is soft and swallows my slender frame. I take in the scent of the soft fabric. It smells pretty. I like it quite a bit. It smells 

~like him~

like lilies with a hint of salt. With a tiny smile on my face I wrap the robe around me like a blanket and doze off. For some reason, I'm soothed by

~him~

its softness and scent that I forget about the pain in my head. I snuggled further into the robe's softness thinking about how nice it felt and how pretty the scent was.

~Like him! Like him! Like him!~  
~~Who?~~  
~HIM!~

Only an eternity later did I snap back into consciousness to see a beautiful cackling madman inches from my face. I quickly realized it was the same man I bumped into at the cemetery. With the gray sash tied over his long, black robe, the silver haired man looks to be more of a funeral mute than a mortician. He had a chain of mourning lockets draped over his hip that made little tinkling noises when he walked. I looked at what I could see of his face considering that a wall of silver hair hid half of it and his crooked black top hat with the long tail didn't help much by way of letting me have a better look at the mad mortician. From what I could tell, the man's skin was deathly pale and scarred around his throat like a delicate choker and across his face. It began at the lower right side of his jaw, moving up diagonally, and stopping only he knew where. His bone structure was amazingly perfect. Angles, proportions, nothing was amiss from what I could see. The silver color of his hair was by birth, not age. The strands were far too smooth and there was no hint of past color nor has there ever been. I just wish I could see the rest of him.

The mortician's laughter gradually died down to giggles and finally, silence as he kept staring at me. My anxiety level rose as I quickly averted my eyes with the intention of keeping them that way.

'Oh, Kami! He noticed my eyes. I know that look. Everyone stares at me like that once my eyes are revealed. Dammit! Fuck!'

"What?" I snapped. My head hurt again.

"Would you like help getting out of my coffin, love?" The black clad man asked with a smirk. "You've been sleeping in my bed, you know. Hehehehe!"

He held out his bony hand to help me out of his "bed" with a wide grin. I accepted the offer, and with that, he gripped both of my hands in his nearly wrapping them completely around my own. I couldn't take my eyes off of how lovely his hands were. Long, slender fingers tipped with long, black nails... absolute perfection. I couldn't bring myself to let go once I exited the coffin. I just kept staring and ran my fingers over his. "Your hands are exquisite," I murmured. "Such perfection. The nails are a wonderful finishing touch."

The man burst into a fit of giggles. I glanced up at him slightly confused. He must have heard me babbling on about his hands. Then, there was that creepy grin of his that I was actually starting to fall in love with. I shrugged the robe on my shoulder as much as I could since I felt it starting to slip. That creepy laugh and grin combination was lovely and endearing to me. I don't know why, but I felt my stomach tying itself in knots when he giggled... in a good way.

Still gripping his exquisite hands in mine, I couldn't help what came out of my mouth next. "Your laughter is so infectious. I adore anyone who can laugh at anything, especially pain."

The man gradually calmed down from his laughing fit and looked at me with his head cocked to the side as if he was questioning my sincerity. Then he beamed at me with his crazy smile. "Thank you, milady. No one's said that to me before."

"It's true," I insisted. "I like it."

He chuckled at my insistence. "What's your name, love?"

"My name is Yoru. It means night." I couldn't help but smile at the beautiful madman. "And you are?..."

~it's him!~  
~~who?~~

"Undertaker," the silver haired mortician replied with a giggle.

"That's it?"

He nodded and giggled into his sleeve. 

"Hm. Interesting and direct. I also must reiterate that your laughter truly is infectious. I am sufficiently entertained." My sadistic grin grew wider despite the pain in my head. "Such a lovely sound. I haven't heard laughter like that in ages. A lovely sound indeed, coming from a very lovely man." A moment of silence elapsed. My sadistic grin split open and morphed into howling, maniacal laughter. Undertaker soon joined me in an epic laughing fit.

"I do admire a lady with a sense of humor," he said between giggles. "It's not every day that I come across a beautiful lady such as yourself."

"What can I say? I love laughing." I kept my head down to hide the fact that I was blushing. I realized I was still holding his hands and he obviously didn't seem to mind one bit which made me turn an even deeper shade of red. I quickly let go of his hands. "Sorry, I think you need these more than I do." Red spread to the tips of my ears. "I suppose you'll need this back," I said referring to the robe. I hardly noticed that I was suddenly clinging tightly to it in a lame attempt at modesty, although it wasn't necessary to do so. In truth, I didn't want Undertaker to see the roadmap of scars all over my body.

'Wait a minute! Why should I give a shit about what he thinks? I have no issues about others seeing my scars, so why him? Am I that attracted to him? How long has it been since I've felt this way? I don't know... But there is something oddly familiar about him. Like I know him from somewhere...' I groaned at my own thoughts. 'Why now?'

Undertaker chuckled at seeing me lost in thought. 

"So, where are my clothes?" I huffed. "I need to get a move on."

Undertaker smiled a creepy-stalker grin. "Upstaaaaiirrrrss, my dear. Ehehehehe."

I said my thanks and headed upstairs to a modest sized room furnished with a rarely used bed and dresser. My clothes were clean and laid out neatly on the bed. The room was sparsely furnished, but what was there was in good condition and well made. The decor was simple black. Everything. Was. Black. That's the bast way to go about it. Nice and easy. Except for one thing... A tiny hint of pink hanging out of the dresser caught my eye, so I had to look. A pair of frilly pink socks stared back at me. I quickly and silently shut the drawer and decided to keep this to myself. It probably belonged to a past guest, but if they belonged to Undertaker, then it had to be the cutest thing ever. I smiled and tucked it away in my secret place.

The excruciating pain in my head jarred me back into reality. I felt dizzy and my vision started to blur. I reached around to the back of my head trying to locate the source of the pain and scraped my sharp nails on a row of stitches. "How the hell did he stitch the wound without fucking up my hair?" I asked myself. "Dammit, my head hurts!" I pulled my hand away and saw blood on my fingers.

"You shouldn't have touched it," came a voice from behind me. "I probably should have told you that I had to stitch you up. That gash was pretty deep. I apologize for letting it slip my mind."

I spun around and saw Undertaker standing in the doorway. For once he looked serious. I can't tell what his eyes are conveying since they are hidden behind his long silver bangs. I'm pretty sure he's being sincere. "My head hurts. I'm sure I'll get over it, just as I always do. It's just that," I started, looking at Undertaker through squinted eyes. "I feel fucking sick." I started toward the bed in what I knew would be a feeble attempt at retrieving my clothes. However, my steps faltered due to the pain and dizziness. I felt myself falling in slow motion, but before I hit the ground, Undertaker caught me and placed me on the bed.

"There, there, love. I'll fix you up in no time. Hehehe."

I was half asleep when I felt a small tugging sensation at the back of my head. "There, you're all fixed up," Undertaker cooed. "Hehehe. I think you should rest here until you're better."

"No, I can make it on my own," I countered. "I always have."

I attempted to get up, but a jolt of pain hit me... hard! Undertaker took hold of my wrist and gently pulled me back down on the bed next to him. I knew he was staring at me. I could feel it. I kept avoiding eye contact with him just as I had been doing all night. As an Observer, my eyes are drastically different. They are an unearthly silver that are reflective like a mirror. With that in mind I kept my head lowered so he wouldn't find out what I really am. I felt a wave of panic sweep over me and soon realized I was crying. I don't remember exactly when it was the last time I did that. I felt him pull me into a comforting embrace. He lifted my chin up with those lovely fingers to look me in the eye, but I kept them closed tight. I really didn't want him to see my eyes.

"Why are you crying?" He asked.

I just shook my head and let the tears quietly flow down my cheeks. I still felt the wave of panic, but it was gradually ebbing away the longer I stayed in Undertaker's embrace. "I just don't want you to see my eyes," I mumbled.

"I'm sure they're beautiful," Undertaker cooed. "Why does it upset you if I see your eyes?"

I decided that I could trust him and let my emotions pour out. "They aren't like yours or anyone else's for that matter." I curled myself tighter into the robe I was borrowing from him, nevertheless, it still kept slipping off my shoulder threatening to show my scars. "They scare people. I've literally been tortured by people because they accused me of witchcraft, sorcery, and all manner blasphemy under the sun. But, I did none of these things! No one else has my eyes except for my sisters, but they're all dead now. I'm the only one left!" The words burst out of me with the sudden release of emotion. I was openly weeping, but I didn't care anymore. I had a feeling that this man would still show me compassion no matter what the circumstances. 

He tilted my chin up to face him. "Look at me, love. It's ok, I won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you," he said softly with a bit of protectiveness. Then he smiled and removed his hat. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." 

"No. We show each other at the same time or no deal."

"Agreed."

"Ok, on three. One... two... three!"

Undertaker lifted his bangs off his face and I opened my eyes looking directly into his. They were the most breathtaking double irises of emerald and soft citrine. The luminescent, piercing predator's gaze framed by long silver lashes was enough for me to not just get lost in, but to live in.

~IT'S HIM!!!~  
~~Who?~~  
~HIMHIMHIMHIMHIM! DAMN YOU! DON'T YOU REMEMBER?~  
~~What?~~

The scar made his already perfect facial features even more beautiful. A perfect diagonal bisection from the right jawline, over the bridge of his nose, making a subtly sharp turn over his left eye, and finally disappearing into his hairline. There was no way that voice matched that face. It had to be an act. 

"Shinigami," I whispered in awe.

He nodded with a slight smile on his face.

"You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. You're gorgeous." I felt my heart racing as a deep red blush crept up my face. I was fighting the urge to claim Undertaker as my own and the intensifying pain from my head injury at the same time. 

"Yours are the window to the soul," Undertaker replied with a soft smile. "The legend is true." 

"Oh, so there's a legend about me?"

"Yes, in the reaper realm," Undertaker replied matter of factly. "The Seven Daughters of God: created before creation; judges above all; more powerful than all the angels in the Holy realm, and that includes the Son, the Prophets, and the Ascended; most feared beyond the gates of Hell; and Goddesses to reapers-well elder reapers, the younger generation doesn't care much about the legends."

I sighed. "No one was supposed to know about the Observers. I don't know how word got out, but essentially what you say is true. Observers are the eyes and ears of God. We neither age nor die except by the hand of the Creator. We are sterile so no other beings can corrupt us. We are God's soul made flesh. Its essence, if you will. Our eyes are a tool of Judgement. Beings who look into our eyes will have to watch their inner reflection as we judge their souls. They will be forced to confront who they really are at the moment of their deaths. No sins can be hidden, no secrets kept, no misdeeds undone. We know all, we see all, we hear all. As Observers, my sisters and I were Created to be prepared for battle, therefore, we are our own weapons. Much of the concepts that Shinigami use to this day are offshoots of Observers. The glasses you wear and the Cinematic Records are your version of my eyes. The Death Scythe is your version of the Observer being its own weapon. Since each scythe is unique to its owner, each of my sisters was unique to herself. So, where are your glasses?"

"I don't wear them anymore since I've retired." Undertaker smirked. "Not like I needed them anyway," he said under his breath.

"I can make your vision better. I know you reapers are dreadfully nearsighted."

"I'm fine, I rely on my other senses," he lied.

Undertaker took out a blanket from a closet just out of view and placed it over me. As he started to leave I grabbed his wrist. "Stay with me," I said softly. "At least for tonight. You don't have to. I know you'd prefer your coffin and all..."

"I'll stay with you," Undertaker replied, climbing into bed next to me. He pulled me into a protective embrace. "I'd rather be here with you than in my coffin anyway," he whispered into my hair. He kissed my forehead and held me tighter. "You're so lovely. I'm so glad I finally found you." He nuzzled his face into my hair and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

'Glad he finally found me? Does he know something I don't? Maybe it's my eyes. I don't know, but there is something very familiar about him too. Very, very familiar that goes far back into my past, but I can't quite put my finger on it. His scent, his touch, and especially his eyes are all bells waiting to ring.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind words dear readers.  
> Now then, there will be POV changes which will be noted, however, time skips won't be. They'll simply have a unique identifier between paragraph breaks. If anyone other than my OC seems OOC, I have my reasons. Also, I have my reasons for referring to God/Kami/Creator as "it" which will be revealed in later chapters.   
>  Now, on with the show!  
> Enjoy!

*Undertaker's POV*

I'm laying here with the oldest living legend wrapped in my arms. I feel an overwhelming sense of familiarity as I take in the scent of her hair: black orchids and jasmine.

~It's her. The one from that day.~

She is true Divinity, equal to the Creator itself. The last living Observer-the very Soul of God itself-is here with me. Of all the beings created, Fate brings us together

~again, you fool, you know it's her~

as if we were meant to be. Her long black and red hair complements the cold, metal glare of her lupine eyes. She is the definition of perfection even as she sleeps.

I winced when I felt a set of sharp nails suddenly dig into my side. I peeked through my bangs hoping that I hadn't woken the lovely being. I was relieved that she was still asleep with a blissful expression on her beautiful face. I lightly skimmed my fingertips over her high cheekbones enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth skin. My sense of touch memorized the severe bone structure, the high arch of her eyebrows, the ready made madness of her lips, the slight upward tilt of her eyes. She was terrifyingly beautiful, and was certainly no dainty lady. I nuzzled my face into the Supreme being's hair as she held me tighter-almost possessively-while she seemed to reach nirvana in whatever dream she was having. My heart nearly stopped when she shifted positions, bringing her right leg over me and maneuvering herself partly on top of me as she tightened her hold. I, in turn, held her tighter as well. She buried her face my neck with a throaty purr as if she was trying to merge with me. I pressed my face back into her hair once again inhaling the scent of jasmine and black orchids and virtually melted in her arms.

~It's her~  
~~What are you on about?~~  
~It's the One from that day!~

"Divinity pales in comparison to your beauty," I whispered.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, just enough to let the robe she was borrowing from me slip off her shoulder. I peeked down at the exposed scar adorned skin. Various lines criss-crossed her back in random directions. Some looked like battle scars, others looked like the results of torture. I traced my fingers along some of the exposed lines of flesh. I came across shorter, crudely indented scars, and immediately recognized the mark of the scorpion. The indentations were deep and wide from having been nearly flayed alive. She was most likely condemned to death or had a corrupt tormentor for company. She wasn't exaggerating when she said she had been tortured at the hands of humans. I felt a massive wave of empathy crash over me. Why? Just why?

~Because it's her.~

Nevertheless, her scars make her beauty that much more to be treasured. I felt a tear slip down my cheek as I kept thinking about the pain she must have endured in the hands of humans. She stirred again and I quickly ceased what I was doing and held her tighter. I nuzzled my face deeper into her hair to suppress any more tears from springing to the surface.

"So rare and so beautiful," I whispered into her hair. 

The battle scarred Supreme being moved her arm around me, digging her nails into my back in a possessive embrace. Her signature sadistic grin flickered across her face momentarily adding some spice to the sweet bliss. I endured the pain of her nails digging deeper into my skin so I wouldn't ruin the moment we were sharing. I felt blood seeping out of my back the deeper she dug her nails in, but I didn't mind. The sadistic grin flashing on her face confirmed her possession of me rather than her need of me. For some reason it didn't bother me. Instead, my focus was solely on her. My desire for her. My want for her. My possession of her. But she beat me to the punch, it seems. The irony is, I'm usually the possessive one, and here I am letting her play my role. The sense of familiarity is somehow even more overwhelming as this is not normal behavior for me.

I was hers whether she knew it or not, but that doesn't mean I won't give her a challenge. I silently laughed at the notion. I couldn't help but love her. It's that familiarity about her toying with me from the back of my head. There's something very unique about this woman indeed. I don't remember the last time I've felt this way in my long existence. 

~It IS her!~

"I am yours," I whispered inaudibly as I eventually fell asleep in what turned into her embrace.

 

*Yoru's POV*

I felt a sudden possessive urge to hold Undertaker tighter and never let go. I wrapped myself around him as much as I could and dug my nails into his back like I was holding on for dear life. He flinched below me but didn't attempt to remove himself from my tight hold, but held me tighter instead. I opened my eyes ever so slightly and caught him watching me sleep. He whispered sweet words in my hair assuming I wouldn't hear them. I felt somewhat nostalgic like I heard the same words before.

~from him~

The words dripped with honey. I couldn't detect any malice within them or cruelty in his touch. I felt loved, genuinely loved.

I have a strong feeling that I know Undertaker from somewhere. It was probably a couple of centuries ago if I remember correctly. He was still an active reaper at the time, so it's possible that Undertaker is the same man I fell in love with all those years ago.

~He is~  
~~Who is?~~  
~Him~

I still have the ribbon I snatched from his hair the last time I encountered him. He never knew what hit him until his long, silver locks were flowing freely in the midnight breeze. I never introduced myself, let alone told him how I felt. He didn't have any visible scars back then, he wore half framed glasses, and wore a business suit with his own personal touches of a black duster and leather thigh high boots that buckled all the way up to the top. I remember those very well because I was pissed off about thinking he was copying me since I owned-and still own-the same pair of boots. He stood out from the other reapers. Granted, they were all beautiful, but he was something else entirely. Beautiful doesn't begin to describe him. Perfect. No, that's too cliche'. This one was a legend. Adrian Crevan was a legend and I fell in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. He was mine whether he knew it or not.

I have a distinct feeling that Undertaker is Adrian Crevan, and if I'm right, then I'm laying in bed with the legendary reaper himself.

~He is~  
~~What?~~  
~HIM~

Either I'm hearing things again or Undertaker just mumbled something about him belonging to me. And he's been touching my scars without the urge to projectile vomit or incurring my wrath? This is interesting indeed. So, he wants me. If Undertaker is the same man I fell in love with, he needs to be reminded that Observers are a hell of a lot more possessive than Shinigami. With that being said, I will not confess my feelings until I know for certain that Undertaker is who I think he is. My gut feeling says he is, but only the soul will reveal the truth. No sins, no secrets, nothing hides from the eyes of an Observer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the "scorpion" was also known as the scourge. In the Roman Empire it was used to mete out corporal punishment. No more than 40 lashes unless you were condemned to death or not a citizen. The weapon was a leather multi-thonged whip with metal hooks knotted at the end of each thong. The bigger the hook the more damage it inflicted. People could be virtually flayed alive since the hooks ripped chunks of flesh out with each lashing. Other countries and cultures used this weapon in various forms across the expanse of time for their own reasons. As humans, we're brutal, especially when we let power go to our heads.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking the time to check out my fic. It is very much appreciated.  
> Let's all take a trip into my OC's dream. Keep hands and feet in the ride and your wits about you.   
> Enjoy the show.

The unconscious rhythmic scratching of Undertaker's long nails on the back of my neck seemed to make the ever present ache in my head disappear for the time being. The touch was soft and endearing and it made me feel almost at peace. I buried my face in Undertaker's neck placing a small kiss below his jaw. A soft, deep purr escaped the back of his throat as he held me closer. The scent of lilies and salt beneath a cascade of silver starlight finally lulled me to sleep. Tonight I had a dream for the first time in decades.

#####################################################

It was that day two centuries ago. The day I first laid eyes on him. 

~Are you sure?~

A Shinigami captured my Observer heart. I watched in morbid fascination as this tall, gorgeous reaper coaxed the souls out of men and women in all stages of life. Even children, the most stubborn of souls, would willingly give in to him. He seemed to quell the humans' fears of their mortality with his mesmerizing green and gold eyes and a reassuring smile with an underlying hint of mirth. As soon as the humans' fears melted away, he'd strike with his wicked Death Scythe. I would watch in awe every time his lean frame moved to collect a soul. It never got old to see his long silver ponytail swirl around him in a near perfect circle with the blade of his scythe, especially during combat. Every now and then I'd catch him laughing while he was working. It's against protocol, but so were his boots. Who was he to follow protocol? The man was a legend.

I began following him closely. I relished observing him in the shadows as much as he relished the taking of a soul that yields to his macabre charm. I was far too smitten to talk to him, and I had my duties as well.

~Are you sure?~  
~~About what?~~  
~Him~

He was a hobby that soon grew into a fierce obsession. I had to have him! But how? How could I possess him without giving away what I am? Several years passed by without a plan. I was tasked with hunting down my sisters who had taken human mates  
~revolting~  
and risked exposing what they truly were, which is punishable by death at the hands of Our Creator. Honestly, I'd rather see them raped and eaten by a horde of demons than give themselves willingly to a single revolting human. It's a nightmare being the First Daughter, but that's not the point. 

Once everything was settled between my sisters and Our Creator, I resumed my observations of my Shinigami. By this time he had fallen for a human female.

~Are you sure?~  
~~About what?~~  
~Him.~

I was so enraged I destroyed everything in my wake. When duty permitted, I was going to find her and slaughter her mercilessly. Despite my seething anger and plans of totally justifiable homicide, I still kept observing him. Rage and a deep, profound sadness filled my very being every time I saw them together. I wanted that whore dead. He still kept up his work, but no longer took the same joy in it that he used to. He seemed bored. No, it was cold resignation, and it was the saddest sight I've ever seen. That's the first time I shed tears for any reason.

~Are you sure?~

I felt like a part of me died when he stopped laughing. He wasn't the same man I fell in love with anymore. He was hardly a shell of his former self, and he was doing well enough to get by without killing himself or the vile human that tricked him into doing something he didn't want to do.

It took every last ounce of my will power not to destroy that human for his sake, although I desperately wanted to deprive her of her life personally. I wanted her to see the true face of suffering, of wrath, of pain, of anguish, before I tortured her to death. I show no mercy to my enemies and I wanted to make her feel it. I wanted her to know how it feels to lie to a man who just wanted a fix, then cheat your way into keeping what you don't deserve, and steal what isn't yours. She tricked him! He's too good. Had it been me, I would've killed her on the spot, but that's just my nature. The more I think about how this atrocious woman tricked him into losing his freedom; making him into this blank, empty shell where a once mirthful reaper used to be, makes my blood boil. But, rules are rules. I, like him, am also duty bound. Now that my sisters are long gone, I have more than my fair share to fulfill. All I can do is sit back and fantasize about the myriad ways of making her suffer. Then one day while I was out on an observation, I heard that the liar died from a random illness that was spreading around her village. I don't really care what it was. I'm just glad she can't have what's mine. She doesn't deserve him. She's released my Shinigami from a life of unwilling and unwanted servitude with her death. For that, I will give her thanks.

The last time I saw him, I was hidden in a tree on a brisk November night. He paused and looked in my direction with a suspicious glare on his face with the slightest of smiles curling on lips I have killed to kiss. My heart melted all over again when mirth mixed with the suspicion in his stunning eyes. A piece of him had returned! Feeling bold, I reached out and untied the ribbon holding his hair in the elegant ponytail he always wore. All I wanted was his attention. All I wanted was to at least say hello. But he opened a portal to the reaper realm and jumped through it leaving me with his black velvet ribbon between my fingers. The last thing I saw before the portal closed was a waterfall of silver whipping around his back.

"Adrian," I murmured through choked sobs. I sat back against the tree branch clutching the ribbon to my breast. "...Adrian..." I let the levee break and wept for hours. My heart shattered at the unrequited love between us. At that moment, I lost all hope of seeing him again.

~Are you sure?~  
~~About what?~~  
~HIMHIMHIMHIMHIM! Damn you!~

In spite of my many subsequent conquests over the years, none of them filled the hole in my heart left by my beautiful reaper I had fallen for. No other man or woman I had been with could compare to him even though I had yet to possess him.

~Are you sure?~

Humans were mere objects to be used and abused for my own sadistic pleasure. Marquis DeSade was a delicate flower compared to me when I'm in one of my sweet moods. I had become stone cold wrath, the worst form of anger, one of the "quiet ones". I was already one to be feared, but since he left I was feared even more than I was in the past by every being in every realm. The devil himself dared not incur my wrath.

Every so often I'd wear the black ribbon in my hair. Anytime I knew for sure I was alone, I'd inhale the sweet fragrance of lilies and salt. His scent. 

"Adrian, I love you."

Occasionally, a tear or two would drop from my silver eyes. It didn't matter to me that I had more pressing issues, that my sisters were dead, that I was on the run. All that mattered to me was him. I traced my nails on the velvet ribbon, a flicker of a smile playing at my lips from the tactile pleasure it brought me. "Adrian..." The last tear I shed for him was around 70 years ago. I still kept the ribbon as I still harbor hope that one day I'll find him again.

I was standing on a hill the day I shed my final tear. I looked up realizing I was under the same tree I was sitting in when I stole the reaper's ribbon some decades ago. A short distance away an eroding monument of an entwined demon and angel caught my eye. I couldn't tell if they were fucking or fighting and I didn't have time to look. It would have to wait for another time, whenever that is. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My vision blurred from the final tear dropping as I adjusted my clothing and buckled thigh high boots. I took in the cool night air and ran unfurling blood and night from the black velvet ribbon confining it. I left the tears behind as I ran. The air felt crisp against my scarred flesh as I ran from the pain. My hair unfurled and whipping in the wind beating back the wounds to an ageless heart. Never. Never once, did I think I'd be back here again.

I still have the very same black velvet ribbon. Over the past century his scent has worn off and has been replaced with mine: jasmine and black orchids. I have missed him so.

Adrian.

####################################################

I snapped my eyes open. Undertaker was still asleep. I wrenched myself out of his iron grip and stealthily worked the rest of my body on top of him. I took the liberty of smelling his thick silver hair.  
~lilies and salt~  
Feeling bold, I bent down over his lean body and ever so sweetly let my tongue trace the scar around his neck.

Undertaker woke up with a start and pulled me closer to him. I saw a look of confusion, slight amusement, and lust flash in his emerald and citrine eyes. I smiled down at him with my trademark sadistic grin. He started to smile back, but was stopped as I shot my hand out and wrapped it around his throat. I dug my nails lightly into his flesh and gave it a small squeeze to let him know who was in charge. My grin grew more menacing as I looked into his alluring shocked green orbs. He needed a small sample of the Wrath of God. My silver eyes glinted in the morning sunlight as I yanked the mortician to my level and kissed him with animalistic ferocity. He growled and clamped on to me, digging his dark talons into my back, and returning the kiss. It felt electric being with Undertaker like this. I wanted more and from the feel of it, he wanted more. Before anything could go any further, I broke the kiss and released Undertaker from my grasp. (You have to appreciate a man who loves to be strangled while being kissed). I looked down at his beautiful face and moved his bangs away from his stunning eyes. I gave him a soft smile.

"Undertaker, I have to know. Are you him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OC has pent up rage. Heehee.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kindness and stopping by to take a look at my fic. I meant to update sooner, but I had other more pressing issues to tend to. Alas, those issues have been resolved, anni celebrated, and now I can resume with my updates as per usual.  
> There will appear to be a continuity error, however, it is just a recollection of the same event from two different perspectives. Be prepared for Maury moments and a bit of domestic violence.  
> IMHO, Undertaker is shrouded in so much mystery that there is a wide margin of error when it comes to shaping his past. I prefer him undomesticated like a lone wolf. It's the eyes, I tell you! The eyes! *swoon*  
> From here on out, the romance kicks in high gear.  
> You have been warned.  
> Enjoy!

Undertaker blinked at me and chuckled. "Am I who, lovely?" He asked with amused confusion lacing his speech.

"Are you him? Are you Adrian Crevan?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at the beautiful creature below me.

~It's him~

Undertaker tensed at the mention of the name. "Why do you want to know?" His tone was much darker, menacing, and held the threat of dire consequences should the right nerve be struck with the wrong words. His glare was murderous and devoid of any humor. Even so, his eyes were still captivating. He dug his nails deep into my hips drawing blood. It was more arousing than intimidating, but I didn't let it show. I thought it best to go along with his game for the time being. "Why do you care?" He dug his nails deeper into my flesh. It took all my willpower to keep myself in check. His narrowed acidic eyes glowed maliciously as he awaited my answer. Clearly, he was not playing around.

~Fuck!~

"I'm not in a forgiving mood at the moment," the mortician growled. I was clamped to him and he wasn't letting go until he got his answers. I was no longer aroused. I was frustrated and unnerved by his sudden mood swing at the mere mention of the name.

~Dammit~  
~~It's him!~~

I looked at Undertaker with pleading eyes, tears threatening to spill. He softened the expression on his face and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest. "I'm sorry, Yoru, I didn't mean to frighten you." 

"I'm not frightened."

"Why do you want to know if I am this man you speak of?" He asked as he stroked my hair. It's amazing how fast his mood changes, but who am I to judge. I make him look stable.

"Because you look exactly like him, except he didn't have any visible scars." I felt a lump growing in my throat. My sadness was threatening to expose itself again. "Adrian was-no, is-the man I love even unto this day." I felt a tear slide down my face. 

~Damn.~

He pulled me in closer, looking at me with sympathetic eyes. "What if I am?" He whispered. The seductive drawl sent shivers down my spine as I barely suppressed a pleasured moan, and now at a complete loss for words. He nipped my ear. "What would you do if I am the man you seek?" He found his way down my neck to my clavicle taking little nips and nibbles between kisses as he did so. "Hm, my dear?" He captured my lips in a devious kiss as I gasped upon his finding of that certain spot on my neck.

"Mmm...Undertaker, are you trying to seduce me?" He giggled and a creepy grin spread across his face. I don't understand what's so scary about him. I think he's positively beautiful when he's being creepy. He captured my lips in another devious kiss.

~Damn, he's trying to distract me and it's working. Focus, Yoru, focus.~

I broke the kiss much to Undertaker's dismay, and shook myself from the lusty haze enveloping me. He looked so adorable with a pout on his face, like someone took away his lolli. I looked into his precious green orbs and caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes, slipped one of his lovely hands over mine, and leaned into my touch. "There's only one way for me to find out for sure," I said having made my decision.

~The moment of truth.~

Before Undertaker could get his mind wrapped around the situation, I had him pinned beneath me by the wrists. My pupils had disappeared allowing the silver of my eyes to become living mirrors. My target was frozen once our eyes locked. "I'm sorry if this hurts, but I'll go as quickly as possible." I narrowed my eyes, concentrating on finding a certain place in the reaper's past. Bits and pieces of his distant past flashed by in my search.

~It's him and...you?~  
~~What?~~  
~?~  
~~?~~  
~It's him! You're imagining me, or I'm imagining you. Fuck it! It's him!~

Another sense of familiarity overcame me during the observation. I could have sworn I was somewhere else in his mind, but I dismissed the thought entirely. It could have easily been someone else. The images went by in a blur, and I'm solely focused on finding out who he is not who I am to him. I slowed the images of his past when I approached the desired time frame. I could sense Undertaker's pain as I prodded through his memories. The poor man was putting up a valiant effort of remaining still and quiet during the agony I'm putting him through at this moment. I observed the century I observed him. Pure, unadulterated hatred flashed in my eyes as I saw the maltreatment of this wonderful creature by that deceitful human whore. I did a double take causing the already pained Shinigami to groan beneath me. "It is him," I whispered to myself as I watched the scene play again before me: The day I stole his ribbon, he actually noticed me hiding in the tree, but didn't say a word to me. It was the strangest sensation to watch myself watching me in my own observation. I broke eye contact allowing my eyes to return to their normal silver coloring. I collapsed onto Undertaker's chest sobbing broken apologies. Deathless observations are a painful ordeal for almost any being to endure. 

"I knew there was something familiar about you, love," the reaper said with quiet recognition. He tilted my chin up and our eyes met, one enraptured by the other. "It seems I am who you say I am. I haven't used that name since my retirement, so let's keep it our little secret, hm?" I nodded my head. "I did see you that night up in the tree. You were so beautiful reclined against a branch with your arms stretched over your head showing off such an interesting scar. I wanted to stop and talk to you as much as you did, but I couldn't quite find the right words to say, and I was also duty bound with my job. I'm sure you were in the same predicament."

"Oh, Kami, you really did see me!" I gaped at the silver haired legend with a hand over my open mouth.

He nodded as a small smile formed on his face.

I quickly composed myself. "I still have the ribbon I stole from your hair that night, and I carry it with me to this day." I admitted. I blushed and smiled sheepishly having heard myself making the admittance out loud to the former owner of said item. "I've been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you," I readily confessed, tracing the scar on his face with my fingertips. He closed his eyes and sighed softly at my gentle touch. "You are Death incarnate, whose beauty is subliminal. Though Death has acquired scars marring his once perfect flesh, his beauty never waned. Instead, it transcended the concept of subliminal beauty itself." I cupped his face in my hands. "I still love you and I always will." I looked directly into his stunning double irised eyes for a few moments and kissed him sweetly.

*Undertaker's POV*

"...love you and always will."

Her words echoed in my mind. I had no idea that she really felt this deeply for me for so long. My thoughts were racing faster than I could appropriately respond to such a divine revelation. Thank the gods for her kiss as I was still speechless and still somewhat recovering from the painful experience of her observation. Something about her sadism reminds me of someone I loved over the ages.

~It's her~  
~~I know~~  
~Say it~  
~~In time~~  
~Insufferable~

It's funny how the memory works against itself sometimes, isn't it? I often wonder if it's the bastard child of karma and fate. 

Around 150 years ago there was one particular woman-a human-that I loved out of obligation rather than choice. She was a fix for me. I was bored and needed some entertainment, and she obliged for a nominal fee. Some time later she saw me passing through her village and claimed that I was the soon to be father of her unborn child. She had no clue what I am, and I didn't tell her either. I didn't think it necessary since she was a prostitute and reapers and humans don't mix. Literally. But, if for some sliver of a slim chance that I was indeed the father, I'd do what I'd have to do. Needless to say, I was completely miserable with that whore of a woman. She was just plain cruel, and that's putting it lightly. Given her "profession" and what I am, I pretty much knew she was lying about the paternity of the unborn child. My speculation was that she judged me by how I dressed and assumed I was well-to-do, and decided to be the greedy deceitful bitch she was. I always wondered if I was the only person she did that to. I've known demons more honest than that woman.

I grew to hate her as the weeks dragged on. It's not as if I truly loved her in the first place. It was just obligatory lip service to get the bitch off my back so I could go to work in peace. In fact, I took on more overtime just so I didn't have to look at her. Everyone knows that reapers loathe overtime. I hated her conniving, backstabbing ways. I had never hit a woman, but the day she snuck into the kitchen while I was passed out at the table from working triple shifts and tried to cut off my ponytail was provocation enough to send her flying to the other side of the room without justification or apology for my actions. I did not want the additional responsibilities of fatherhood. I did not want a child and still don't. On that day she tried to cut off my hair, I had had enough of her bullshit. I revealed to her what I am, what I do, and denied paternity based on that fact and on her occupation as a prostitute. It could be anyone's kid, but not mine because we don't mix. I remember her yelling at me to stay and making the usual threats to end my life. I had already walked out the door never to return. I heard from a coworker the following week that he reaped a sick pregnant woman's soul, and she lamented about some reaper leaving her alone to raise their child. I glared at him as he clapped his hand on my shoulder confirming that it wasn't mine. 

That short relationship left a bitter taste in my mouth for a long time. I was an empty shell of a man when I was with that human woman. My usual brand of joy was all but gone, especially when I was working. Perhaps that's why a split second of pure hatred flashed in Yoru's eyes when she briefly observed that part of my past. It took a long time to get rid of that bitter taste. The night I saw Yoru hiding in the tree watching me intently with her lupine eyes, that bitterness disappeared. If only I was able to talk to her, but I couldn't, I had to get back to work. I'll never forget the electric softness of her nails barely grazing the back of my neck and the reaction it elicited from me as she tore the ribbon from my hair that night. I smiled for the first time in years as soon as the portal home closed. 

I'm glad I don't have to be so cold anymore, especially since I've retired. I can have a good laugh with my guests, although it seems I'm always the only one laughing. I love my job as a mortician far more than I ever loved reaping. I may be considered creepy by the population at large, but Yoru seems enamored by my eccentricities. She's expressed a particular fondness for the way I laugh. I absolutely adore her sense of humor as it is much like my own in a way, just more perverted. I am bewildered that she went to the lengths she did to hunt me down and make me hers. I've heard legends about how much more possessive Observers are of their lovers than Shinigami, and Shinigami are a very possessive lot. I can't say I've met another woman like her in any capacity. Even when softened, her smile is sadistic. It suits her.

I coiled my arms around the lovely woman's waist while she looked down at me half expecting a response to her earlier declaration. I pulled her closer to capture her soft lips in another kiss. "I've thought about you ever since that November night when I saw you in that tree," I mused. I tucked a stray lock of red and black behind Yoru's ear.

"Is that so?" She inquired with a raised eyebrow. She played with the small braid tucked behind my right ear as a predatory smile crept over her face.

"Yes. I want to ask one thing, though."

"What would that be?"

"Why didn't you ever say anything to me?"

She sighed. "Rules are rules, Undertaker. I wasn't allowed to have a mate since I would be at high risk of exposing myself and my duties. When my sisters took humans for mates, they ran that high risk. I was ordered by Our Creator to hunt them down and bring them before it for judgement. I had nothing but utter contempt for them. Instead of destroying them, however, Kami stripped them of what they were. I remember it saying: "If you wish to be bonded with a human, then a human you shall become!" It was pathetic, really. Once the angels found out that I was the only Observer remaining, they began plotting against me. They are so consumed with envy, they will go any length to destroy me by any means necessary. Anything from forcing me to mate with a human or demon or the devil himself, even as far as starting a war between realms. Who knows what close to an entire host of angels is capable of when they're bound and determined to eradicate what they consider a threat to themselves. I'm very powerful, but I know my place. There are archangels that are after me too. I can't take all of them by myself. If my sisters were still with me, I wouldn't be in this predicament." I stroked Yoru's hair gently being mindful of the stitches when she collapsed over me in exasperation. "I'm only one Observer," she continued. "I know I'm capable of singlehandedly bringing about total annihilation in Hell, this realm, and even yours if I wanted to, but not in my own. I'm tired of running. I can never stay in one area for long. I don't expect anyone to shoulder or share my burden, nor do I expect or ask for protection."

Any trace of joy I felt was instantly replaced by intense rage. Angels were exponentially worse than demons. At least demons, scum they may be, know they are deceptive assholes, and have no qualms admitting it when prompted. Angels, on the other hand, are so deceptive they believe their own lies, eventually driving themselves insane because of it. I don't care what she says, I'm not staying out of her fight against the angels. She is mine and I will protect her. "I'm so sorry." I held the battle scarred beauty tighter against me. "I won't let you become fodder for the angels, lovely. I love you and I won't lose you to them," I growled.

~Did I just say that out loud?~

Yoru nuzzled her head on my chest. "Ok, ok, you win! I'll allow it." Her tone suddenly darkened. "And I'll destroy anything that harms you even at the cost of all existence."

I chuckled slightly. "That's my line," I quipped. "Nevertheless, I will do the same for you."

The silver eyed beauty smiled knowingly and wrapped herself around me. "I know." She tugged on one of my ear piercings with her teeth sending a little shiver down my spine. "I love you, Adrian Crevan," she whispered with a kiss below my ear.

It felt strange hearing my real name spoken aloud again. I'm so used to going by Undertaker that I sometimes forget that I have another name. "So, why choose a reaper when you could have had any other divine creation?" I asked, tilting Yoru's head up to look at me.

A flush of bright crimson stained Yoru's cheeks. "Let's just say that I'm fascinated by Shinigami as a whole. The way they work, the way they look, the graceful way they move, the indifference on the job in contrast to their gamut of emotions and personalities off the job. I could go on listing qualities. Then, there's you, different among your peers. You are Death incarnate. You had a unique way of collecting souls. You were a predator tricking its prey into feeling safe, and once their guard was down, you'd attack with twisted mirth dancing in your eyes. From my vantage point, it seemed as though you customized your method of collecting to every individual soul you encountered. The way you would fight was spellbinding." She smiled and bit her lip. "Your Death Scythe wasn't just a weapon, it was a part of you, an extension of your arm. You would move so fluidly as you struck down your enemies. You and your weapon were truly one. It was a beautiful dance to behold. Oh, Kami! The way your ponytail would make a near perfect circle with the blade of your scythe as you slashed it through the air topped off with the intensity of your piercing glare was absolutely mesmerizing. I could watch you forever and never be bored. That's what drew me to you, your uniqueness among your fellow reapers. Even though you're retired now, you're still superior to all of them. You are Death incarnate."

I giggled a little bit. "I'm quite flattered, my dear."

"Don't be, I'm merely stating facts," she stated dryly as the sadistic grin of hers that I adore started to show itself.

I couldn't help it! I burst into a fit of laughter at the way she responded. She joined soon after, howling along with me. 

~It's her~  
~~I know~~  
~It's the howl~  
~~I know~~

She abruptly stopped her strange melodic howling laugh and looked at me with wild, staring eyes. I softly growled as she raked her fingers through my hair. Suddenly Yoru kissed me with the most intense passion imaginable. I smiled into the kiss thinking of how beautiful she must look when she's dismembering what or whoever it is that incurs her wrath. 

She broke the kiss and derailed my train of thought. "I love you and I always will."

"And I love you," I replied as I caressed her cheek. "And I always will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody fucks with Undertaker's hair. Nobody.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking the time to check out my fic, and for the compliments and such.   
> Enter Ciel's cameo appearance and Sebastian's first.  
> Admittedly, this isn't my best chapter. It looks like pointless filler, but it does have a part to play for future chapters.  
> Enough BS. I've KMFDM playing in the background, and you know what that means. It's showtime. Enjoy.

*Yoru's POV*

 

It had been a few weeks before the stitches were finally removed from the back of my head. I heal faster than that, but I like the scars. In this case, however, the damn thread was so itchy I couldn't resist scratching, which resulted in a reopened wound and a pissed off mortician. If it wasn't for a guest he had to finish preparing, I would have disemboweled him with my bare hands. I'm still at a loss as to how he stitched me up without ruining my hair. I guess that's a secret, but I don't care, I'm just happy I still have my hair. It does make me think of his amazing skill of restoring the most gruesome and mangled corpses to their former glory. Between the bouts of repairing my head wound, I have learned how to make guests beautiful again, although I much prefer annihilation to preservation. 

 

~It's you~

 

I grabbed a pair of scissors from a shelf over the basin wondering why I was about to do what I was about to do. 

 

~Because _they_ will know if you don't~

~~Silver~~

~That's what  _they_ will know if you don't~

 

Acting on masked impulse, I brushed a sizable section of hair forward, and chopped it off in a jagged, uneven curtain across my face. All that was visible was my nose, mouth, and part of my left cheek. I wasn't going to change it, lest I look to much like Undertaker. "If it works for him, it should work for me," I said to my unresponsive reflection. I never liked the way I looked with bangs of any style, but it's necessary at times, especially now. "Fuck it," I grumbled to myself. 

 

I felt like a hot, relaxing bath was in order now that I had time to myself. I slid into the searing hot water, enjoying the pain as it lulled me into a meditative state. My mind wandered aimlessly to its secret places as I lay fully submerged in the heat of the water. I stopped breathing and arrested my heart, letting the oncoming coldness of my body react to the hot water. To feel the intense pain like burning pokers through soft flesh, to remind me that I'm still alive. I grew bored of this game I played with myself, and got on with my bathing. Out of habit, I started singing a lamentation that only makes sense to me without realizing my voice divided into three distinct parts, each harmonizing with the other. How long has it been since I've separated my voices? I carried on with my senseless little lamentation not caring about how loud I was singing or who heard me.

 

_Oh, the secret places we could go,_

_But it would never be so._

_Is this the end, my friend?_

_My beautiful Death, I would a thousand times die_

_Than another day watch you have to live a lie!_

_Oh, the secret places we will go,_

_Will it ever be so?_

_This is the end, my beautiful friend._  

 

It's the same pathetic lamentation that spews forth from my mouth whenever I'm alone and my mind wanders to

 

~HIM~ 

 

that certain, beautiful reaper.

 

"I think I'm about done here," I said to apathetic bathroom fixtures. As I was drying myself off, I noticed that the locks of my hair had been removed from the basin. "Sneaky bastard," I mumbled, wrapping long red and black tresses in a towel and perching it on top of my head. I could sense him watching me from beyond the threshold of the doorway. "See something you like?" I asked in a seductively dark voice without turning around.

 

"Hehehe. And, I heard something I like, too," Undertaker replied with his usual creepy charm. "Hehe. That's quite a lovely voice you have. So haunting. I do love a woman who can howl in song and laughter. Ehehehe."

 

"Is that so?" I teased.

 

Undertaker coiled his arms around my waist and teased the back of my neck with the tip of his tongue. "Of course, I love your voice as I do you," he whispered once his teasing mouth reached my ear. He worked his way down to my collarbone taking a few nips in between kisses. I wasn't aware that he removed the towel from my head and worked his taloned hand deep into my hair at the roots until he yanked down hard forcing me to look up at his menacing grin. Feral lust illuminated his double ringed eyes as they swept over my scarred body. His long nails trailed their way down my throat to my collarbone and began their wicked dance across the scars on my chest. I closed my eyes and moaned softly. The hand in my hair increased its grip, forcing my head up further, and the other continued its dance on my scars moving ever so slowly to my private place. "Do you howl as pretty in the heat of passion as you do when you laugh?" His voice was dark and seductive. His eyes aglow with feral, menacing lust. "Can you sing for  _me_ , my dear?" 

 

"As long as you laugh for me," I breathed. He licked my neck slowly until he settled on his favorite spot to bite. Just as he let go of my hair in favor of taking me to bed the bell to his shop rang. "Dammit! Right when I was having fun!" I pouted. 

 

Undertaker let slip a frustrated growl. "We'll finish later. For now, I have business I must attend to." He walked away and called over his shoulder, "They look good on you. Join me downstairs when you're ready. Hehehe."

 

I already had my usual leather ensemble on after Undertaker left the room when I found a simple long black dress draped over the back of a chair in the corner. 

 

~He remembered.~

~~What?~~

~That!~

 

I slipped it over my head and admired the way it skimmed over my body. Comfortable, simple, elegant, and black. Just how I prefer my dresses when I decide to where them. I hastily brushed my hair and covered my silver eyes with my new fringe. I absconded downstairs to join Undertaker in the shop after a quick nod of approval at my appearance. I'm more than tempted to throw whoever is downstairs out, so I can claim Undertaker in one of his many coffins. Whoever it was that interrupted my fun has incurred my wrath, and it appears a little noble will be at my mercy. I scowled at the noble and his butler from beneath my shaggy bangs as I silently perched on top of a coffin next to Undertaker. I silently scrutinized the well dressed duo. The stunted boy with an eye patch, sissy clothes, and melodramatic sullen attitude talked down to Undertaker like he was a street urchin unworthy of his precious time.

_Cry me a fucking river. You wouldn't know loss if it crawled up your ass and tore your soul out the other end_.

Clearly Undertaker was used to the brat and took it with a grain of salt. In fact, he goaded the kid on, provoked him much to the chagrin of the inhuman butler. Yes, the foul stench of demon was evident between him and the boy. 

_A contractor, I see now. The Faustian seal must be beneath the boy's eye patch. Filthy red eyed scum dares to look at me like he wants to fuck me._

Undertaker must have seen how the demon was looking at me because he "casually" wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

 

"Undertaker, who is this?" The boy gruffly demanded pointing a finger at me.

 

"Hehehe. Sheeeeeee's my neeeeeeewwwww assistant," he eerily drawled. He rested his chin on top of my head and stroked my cheek with his knuckles. "She's very good at her job," he added. The creepy grin on his face darkened to a sinister version of itself. "Her skills do indeed rival mine. Ehehehehe."

 

"What is your name, my lady?" The red eyed butler asked with false sincerity.

 

Deciding to use an alias, there was nothing more appropriate than Death, considering the fact that I am staying in a morgue and my lover is Death himself. "I am Shi," I responded flatly. I snickered at the two snobs and flashed them my trade mark sadistic grin. I knew Undertaker was giggling about my choice for an assumed name. I love his creepy laugh, it's cute. 

 

"Isn't she just lovely!" Undertaker exclaimed through a maddening fit of giggles. He hugged himself and swayed back and forth as if doing so would keep him from exploding. "I just looooooovvvve her sense of huuuuuummoooooorrrr!" He drawled out, his laughter becoming maniacal. Eventually, he exploded in his own way, falling on the floor taking me with him. As always, his laughter is infectious, and joined him. Together, we were a cackling bundle of black rolling around on a dusty mortuary floor at a noble's feet managing to steal kisses between laughs.

 

"It's quite true," I said with a wide grin after calming down. "One who cannot laugh at death has never truly lived." I chuckled at the expression of confusion followed by disdain on the young noble's face. Undertaker helped me back up onto the coffin, but chose to remain where he was and wrapped his arms around my shoulders again. This time, he was clearly more possessive in his actions as I felt myself pulled firmly to his chest. I saw a threatening glint flash in his eyes as I glanced up through his bangs. I knew he was looking right at the demon who was staring at me. I leaned further back into the mortician and he, in turn, held me tighter.

 

"I couldn't appreciate her assistance more," he snickered. He rested his chin on top of my head once again. "She's  _my_ treasure." His voice rang with a hint of possessiveness as he spoke the last few words and held me even tighter.

 

I slipped my hands over his. "And I must say, I have thoroughly enjoyed working with a most  _skilled_ mortician," I added with innuendo. Making his guests beautiful again is such a wonderful experience, especially the mangled ones."

 

"She does have an eye for beauty," Undertaker commented as he nuzzled his cheek on top of my head. "Oh, my dear, Shi, I've neglected my manners. This is the Earl, Ciel Phantomhive. The queen's watchdog. Hehe." He pointed his slender finger at the boy, the he pointed at the butler in black. "And this is hilarious bulter, Sebastian Michaelis. Hehehe."

 

"Pleased to formally make your acquaintance." I nodded curtly and rolled my eyes beneath my long bangs. "No more biscuits for you, Undertaker. You didn't let them introduce themselves before we had our laugh." He pouted for the briefest of seconds, but I caught it. "I'll make you biscuits when they leave," I whispered. 

 

"Enough with the idle chit chat, I need some information regarding missing children," the young Earl demanded. "I need to know if any have been your guests."

 

Sebastian gave Undertaker a folder containing documents concerning the case Ciel was called upon to solve.

 

"You know my price," Undertaker cooed.

 

"Sebastian," the boy barked.

 

"Oh, you can't do anything without your butler, can you? Not one joke?" The mortician taunted the noble with a sly grin. "Although aaaaannnnyyyyoooonnnneeee entertaining will do."

 

Ciel glared daggers at Undertaker. "Fine, I'll do it. Sebastian, this is an order, go outside and take that... girl with you, and none of you look inside."

 

"Yes, my lord," the demon said bowing with his hand over his chest. 

 

I crossed my legs and refused to leave my place on the coffin. "I have the same sense of humor as Undertaker. What he knows, I know. After all, I live and work here, and we withhold nothing from each other. With that being said, I refuse to leave."

 

When Undertaker didn't release me from his arms, the young Earl had no choice but to yield to my demand. "Fine," he huffed. Sebastian glared at me and left the building with the sound of my snickering following after.

 

It took Ciel forever to come up with a suitable joke. It was something about cheap castles and filthy maids. I don't remember because I started laughing at the expression on Ciel's face before he finished the joke. Undertaker and I fell on the floor clutching each other in a rumbling fit of maniacal howling laughter. 

 

"Ok, young Earl, I'll tell you everything."

 

The brat brought his demonic butler back inside the shop and the trio began their boring conversation about some circus that was suspected of kidnapping children and possibly murdering them. "This conversation is boring, Undertaker. I'm going to make some tea."

 

"That's fine," he replied.

 

"It was nice meeting you," I said icily. "Have a lovely evening." I giggled to myself as I walked to the kitchen. I didn't bother sticking around to hear any fake formalities.

 

"Now, the information, please..." Ciel demanded. 

_What a damn brat. Noble or not, he deserves harsh discipline._

 

I sighed while I prepared the tea and biscuits for baking. "Who gives a shit about some fucking circus anyway. They're going to die in the end anyway, only fate has its way of leaving the pieces shattered." 

 

I smiled to myself, taking in the aroma of the tea. "Needs more sugar."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Noah's Ark Circus arc reference is there for just so my OC can be defiant and get in on the jokes the Undertaker is privy to. I won't be expanding on it because... spoilers in case anyone missed it. There's always someone new to the fandom.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mushy moments galore. Even I had to check my teeth for cavities after writing this. Thankfully, they are quite whole.  
> Enjoy!

Undertaker came bounding into the modest kitchen no doubt still laughing at the alias I used in front of the Earl and his pet demon, but I could care less. "Shut up and try this," I ordered, shoving a beaker of tea in his hand. 

"I thought you were making tea," he said, staring at the beaker like it was from a different planet. "This has ice in it."

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to slap the mortician upside the head. "It is tea, you old fool! I brought the recipe back from America. It's called iced tea. I learned how to make it when I stayed in Georgia fifty years ago. It's just like brewing regular tea, but when you're done you chill it and add ice when you're ready to drink. Most people prefer it sweet, so sugar is added when it's chilled. The people there drink it during the summer most of the time. I love the stuff! If you don't try it, I won't let you have the cookies I made you."

He took a tentative sip from the beaker and an unreadable expression settled on his face momentarily, then the beaker was quickly drained of its contents. "My, that is good."

"Here, now you can have these." I shoved the tiny urn filled with his favorite bone shaped cookies in his hands. I snickered at the silver haired man greedily stuffing the freshly baked bone cookies in his mouth at lighting speed. He looked straight at me with a devious look in his eyes and a cookie hanging halfway out of his mouth. "What?" He mischievously grinned around the cookie. "What?" I repeated. With inhuman speed, he was on my side of the counter with me pinned beneath him. "I see, you really love your cookies don't you?" I brought my head up, snatching the cookie out of his mouth with mine.

"Nowhere near as much as I love you," he replied, attempting to take back the stolen cookie in a strange and sweet kiss. He pulled me up into a sitting position, wrapping his long arms around me. "You really are my treasure, Yoru." He sighed and nuzzled his head on mine. "Shi, it means death. I adore that wit of yours." 

"The name suits the circumstances, don't you think?" 

"You certainly have a charming way with words, my dear." His long, lovely fingers started working a small section of my hair into a braid identical to his. "Tell me," he inquired with curiosity. "What was that song about?"

"What are you talking about?" I knew what he wanted to know, but I was trying to sidestep the issue anyway.

"The one you were singing early this morning. The words were from the mind of someone whose heart was thrown in the pits of despair, but your voice made them beautifully haunting." 

A long silence passed between us. I was hoping he'd just give up his inquiry and leave me alone, but he was still standing there wanting answers. There was no getting out of it. "You," I murmured. "It's just a stupid lamentation, stupid words I thought of when you were with that whore." I practically spat the words at him. "If she was still alive, I would rip her apart myself. I'd peel back her skin with my nails. I'd make her feel the pain you felt. I'd make her hurt like I hurt. She would drink from the cup of my wrath for hurting you. That day I found out what unfathomable sadness felt like, Adrian. I've always loved you, and if it weren't for my duty to my Creator, I would have done something or at the very least, said something."

"Don't cry, my love," Undertaker softly admonished while wiping away decades old sadness I hadn't realized I had shed.

"I'm sorry about this disgraceful emotionalism. I just... I was... I was gone. I was out of my mind with... I can't describe it. I destroyed everything because of her, and I'd do it again without mercy and without remorse." I clung tightly to the mortician's robes burying my face in the soft fabric.

~Lilies and salt~

He stroked my hair, his long nails lightly grazing my scalp, which I always found quite soothing.

~Somehow he knows~

"I was always thinking of you," I continued in a calmer state. "I hoped one day you'd hear me singing and talk to me, but that day never came. Duties are duties. Mine to my Creator, yours to the souls of the dead. Regardless of that fact, I still hadn't a clue what else to say to you as I was still enraged by your being so, I don't know if abused is the right word, but I'll call it that even if she didn't lay hands on you.... Anyway, I was still enraged by your being so abused by that pathetic bitch. Don't look at me like that. In my realm, we consider manipulation and pathological lying on the part of humans abuse. Consider wars fought in my Creator's name. You are a reaper and have reaped countless souls. Is it not true that warriors on both sides claim their version of faith in Kami is correct?"

"That's the way humans are, I suppose. We are to stand neutral between man and God," Undertaker stated matter of factly.

"You're brutal for such a neutral party. It's beautiful."

"I want to tell you something," Undertaker whispered. It was his turn to look sad. "Ever since that day I saw you hiding in the tree, I had been thinking about you. I went back to look for you every chance I got, but I never found you. I didn't know that you were being chased down by a horde of envious angels bent on your destruction. If I had known, I would have done everything in my power to protect you." He held me possessively. "I will not let anyone harm my treasure."

"Adrian, after you wound up with... her, I felt like part of me died. I was pure unadulterated wrath. I wanted you more. I hated seeing you sad and hurt. I deeply regretted not being able to protect you from that vile whore, but like you, I was bound by my own duties. The day you left I was so heartbroken. I cried every time I thought of you. Dammit, why am I blathering on like this? I'm just repeating myself!" I needed to see for myself how Undertaker really felt. I raked my hands through his soft hair, moving the shaggy fringe out of his stunning eyes.

~Eyes that never lie~

Empathy, something I'm incapable of; loneliness, the worst feeling in the world, especially for immortals; and love, not a deep infatuation, but true love, which is oddly familiar to me, though it seems it shouldn't be.

~It's him!~

I traced the scar bisecting his face. "I love you, Adrian. I always have and I always will."

"You're my treasure and you always will be," he replied as he wiped the last of my despair from my face with his thumb. "I will always love you just as I do now."

####################################################################################################

Undertaker and I were making one our delightfully mangled guests beautiful when a funny thought popped in my head. "Say, Undertaker, you know what would be hilarious." I could hardly contain my giggles.

"What would that be, love?" He asked without looking up from sewing the corpse's gut closed.

"We should dance around the shop with skeletons. I mean, really get into it. Dress them up in formal clothes, name them, and everything. We should pretend to be really serious about the whole affair when people come in, especially when the Queen's Fleabag and his demon scum pet come for a visit. Really give the little shit a show!" I couldn't contain myself anymore. The mad howling laughter burst out as the image of the Phantomhive boy and the demon butler looking at Undertaker and I in snobbish disgust as we danced around the shop with skeletons as if they were live people was too funny to resist laughing at. "Oh, shit! The looks on their faces would be PRICELESS! KyaaaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Undertaker was rolling around on the floor laughing so hard everything around us was literally shaking. He rolled over grabbed on to me and brought me down with him. "We should act...hehehe...like it's...hehehe...something we always do...hehehe...and...hehe...and...hehe...act like we're upset when they walk in on us. HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!" He rolled me on top of him, and we laid there laughing our collective asses off for what felt like hours. "Yoru...hehe...you...hehe...know...hehehe...how to make me...hehehe...laugh, lovely...hehehe."

Both of us eventually calmed down from our laughing fit. "I'm good at what I do," I said with a chuckle. "I love to laugh and I love to see my Undertaker laugh, too." I giggled and poked him in the nose.

Suddenly, he had me on my back, pinning me to the floor by the wrists to either side of my head. A curtain of silver obstructed my vision of everything in the shop except for the beautiful creature looming over me. "Why do you call me by both names?"

I bit my lip, concentrating on my next move. It pays to have higher heels, so I used them to my advantage by hooking a heel around one of Undertaker's ankles and throwing him off balance. Now it was his turn to be pinned to the ground and he wasn't going anywhere. "Surprise!" I gave him my sweetest sadistic grin.

"What kind of-?"

"Don't even ask, my love. It's a secret. Only a legend can best another legend."

Undertaker sighed in defeat. "You still didn't answer my question. Why use both names?"

I laced my fingers through his. "You are my Undertaker during business hours, that much is clear, and when you're being the wonderful creep that I love. You're my Adrian behind closed doors, when you're delightfully sweet, when you're serious, and..." I leaned down surrounding him with blood soaked night. ..."when we're in the throes of passion," I whispered the words against his lips. "Is that something you can live with?" He nodded slowly almost like he was in a trance. "Why do you say I'm your treasure?" 

Undertaker exchanged mesmerizing looks with me. My fingers loosened their grip on his as I stared into his precious green eyes.

~Eyes that never lie~

"Because you are."

Then, it was my turn to be entranced by his luminescent eyes. I vaguely felt his arms snake around me, pressing our bodies closer together as we laid in a tangled mess of black fabric locked in a divine kiss, and totally oblivious to the world around us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OC has pent up emotions. Undertaker's eyes do more than look damn gorgeous and coax souls, it seems.


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for dropping in to visit my fic. I appreciate the views and such. Sorry it's been a while. I have no concept of time and my pomeranian is having difficulties coping with the world around her.  
> Enter Grell (who I also adore). Grell will be addressed mainly in feminine pronouns unless context calls for the masculine. To me, Grell is a fiery lady, but I digress.  
> Enjoy yourselves.

I woke up in the early afternoon with an off feeling. The flying rats were getting closer, I could feel it. I pushed the feeling to the back of my mind for the time being. An odd little trinket on the end table caught my eye. The ribbon I carried with me everywhere was fashioned into a necklace attached to several rows of chains with a locket dangling from the center. "I was wondering where that damn ribbon went," I mumbled to apathetic furniture. I beheld the silver treasure's intricate filigree design engraved on the front. I opened it, and inside locks of mine and Undertaker's hair were blended together in a perfect swirl under glass. A precious memento of the dead. Ironic, given that he and I are immortal, but then again we both deal in death in our own ways.

~They're coming.~  
~~I know.~~

"It's nice and mangled today, Adrian."

Undertaker whirled around, surprised by my sudden appearance. "I see that you found your gift I left for you. Hehe."

"I did," I replied softly. My hand instinctively touched the locket hanging from my neck. "It's lovely. I can see that you've added a new one to your collection of treasures too." I pointed out his habitual fondling of the chain of mourning lockets he wore each day.

"Same as yours," he said. I'm sure if I could see his eyes they'd have the "thousand yard stare" in them.

I approached the silver haired lunatic and tugged on the small braid behind his right ear. "I just wanted to thank you for the necklace. I know that you made it, and it's beautiful." I tugged on his braid once more. Getting the hint, he leaned down and kissed me.

"The legends of your beauty don't do you justice."

I wrapped the braid around his neck. "You flatter me." I pulled on it as though I were strangling him and kissed him with unsated lust. I clamped my legs around his waist as he lifted me off the floor. I went back in for another heated kiss, tangling my fingers in his silver locks. Somewhere on the way to the coffin his hat fell to the floor and I was putty in his hands once I had a good look at his stunning emerald and citrine eyes.

~Those eyes, every time.~

"You and your eyes, Adrian. Every time... I swear, I'll turn into a flesh puddle if you keep making me melt like this."

Undertaker moved my jagged overgrowth of bangs from my eyes and stared into the flashing silver longing swirling with wrathful lust. "I could say the same for you, my love." The distance between us closed in a deadly delightful kiss. "Yoru, truly the legends pale in comparison to the truth."

Something between a growl and a moan escaped me as Undertaker caressed my legs. There was nothing lewd about it, but it was rather sensual even with his long nails digging into my flesh. This death god knew what the hell he was doing.

~Sex and death.~  
~~Intrinsically linked.~~  
~It's him.~

"Adrian, whatever you do, don't ever cut your nails. I'll kill you if you do. Mmmnn... They... feel so good." I grabbed him by the throat and pulled him in for a kiss that rivals the feast of famine. Just as the first article of clothing was about to be completely shed, the bells over the front door rang and an effeminate voice called out for Undertaker, effectively spoiling the mood. "Dammit, always when we're having fun. I was hoping to help you break in this coffin too." I pouted at the mortician.

The effeminate voice repeated its summons for Undertaker. 

"Not now," the mortician growled under his breath. "Stay here and get dressed, I'll take care of this."

"But-"

He put a finger to my lips to silence me. "Come out when you're ready, but be careful."

I nodded my head to indicate that I understood. I had a feeling that caution would mean nothing at this juncture.

Undertaker unceremoniously exited the coffin, scrambling to his hat on the floor and cramming it on his head. He hastily hid his beautiful eyes behind his silver fringe and checked his garments for any signs that non mortuary activities were occurring in a nearby coffin. Satisfied with his overall appearance, the mortician confronted the interloper. "Hello, my dear Grell. What brings you by my humble shop today? Hehehe."

"Oh, I just came to see how my Unny was doing today before I go off to see my darling Bassy," Grell replied flirtatiously.

"Unny?" I whispered to myself. "What the fuck? Who the hell is this guy and what the hell is he doing with my Adrian? This ends right fucking now." As expected of my kind, I was beyond livid. It's in my nature to be very, and I do mean VERY, possessive. Consequently, I threw Undertaker's request out the window and stalked out of the coffin, ready to kill as soon as I heard this "Grell" creature talking to Undertaker as if he were his. I scrutinized the redhead through my long bangs. Long, beautiful hair, flawless skin, rows of pointed teeth like a shark, big toxic, chartreuse eyes-Shinigami-made up in red shadow and dark liner, long lashes, ruby red lips, masculine clothes on an androgynous frame topped by a red coat hanging about the elbows, and red and black high heeled ankle boots. Him and I were actually the same height. He could pass for either gender. He was pretty, and he was about to meet my wrath. "Who the fuck are you?"

Grell looked back and forth between me and Undertaker. "Who are you?" he scoffed.

"I'm the one who's going to kill you if you don't keep your hands off of what isn't yours!" In a single swift movement I hoisted Grell up by his slender neck and hurled him across the shop into the corner where he was wedged between an overturned coffin and the wall. Undertaker collapsed in a fit of crazed laughter, but instantly ceased when livid silver flashed at him from beneath my fringe.

Undertaker took a moment to regain his composure. "Hehe. Grell is harmless, my treasure," he assured me calmly, embracing me from behind and nuzzling my hair. "That's just the way she is. So full of fire."

"She? But, I thought that... Oh, never mind. I'll take your word for it."

I held out a hand to assist Grell from the awkward position on the floor. "I'm terribly sorry about attacking you. I'm extremely possessive of what's mine, it's my nature. I do hope you'll forgive me, Miss Grell." 

Grell eyed me suspiciously, but allowed me to help her stand up. The expression on her face turned from scorn to cautionary fear as soon as she got to her feet.

~She saw them.~  
~~Silver~~  
~Eyes~

I grabbed Grell's wrist to prevent her from leaving and spun her around to face me. (I take it back, I'm actually a tad taller than she is) "You have beautiful Shinigami eyes, Grell. They are the same as my Undertaker's, yet so different. Yours are exotic, alien, feline, beguiling." I lightly stroked her cheek with my fingers. "I adore your teeth, so sharp like these." I held my sharp, pointed nails between our faces to emphasize my point. "Your hair is fire, blood, passion, but most of all you need someone that will give you something that you so freely give away in return. You confuse love with need, and therefore, your masochism is misdirected. It's a pleasure to feel pain, not the other way around, my sweet spider lily. Cadavers look beautiful when he and I finish with them, but cold is cold, and love cannot be returned from a corpse of a man." I tilted my head allowing the slightest glint of silver to peek through my bangs and gave her an honest, though sadistic smile, and let her go.

I procured an urn of bone cookies from a random shelf in the shop and made them acquainted with my mouth and watched in amused interest as Grell and Undertaker stared each other down. Who would be the first to crack, I wonder?

"Unny, do you know what she is?" Grell hissed. "Do you even remember the legends in our realm about the Seven Daughters of God? She's the First Daughter! She'll kill you without hesitation if you cross her. Just what were you thinking getting mixed up with her? She doesn't even need to use our scythes against us, Unny!"

Undertaker laughed like a maniac to Grell's chagrin. "Milady, I know exactly what my treasure is."

"You know her ilk are far more possessive than our kind, even you," Grell continued, giving Undertaker a pointed glare.

"I'm sitting right here, you know. If you want to know anything about the truth behind the legends, just ask," I offered politely.

"You are dangerous," Grell said with a hint of excitement in her voice. "Can I see your eyes? Unny's the only living legend I know."

"How quick you are to change your tune, young lady. I suppose I can humor you." I swept my bangs to the side revealing my silver eyes. "I hope they are to your satisfaction. Grell? Grell? Undertaker, is Grell ok? She's not moving, and there's drool coming out of her mouth."

"If you were a man, she'd ask you to make love to her. Hehehehe."

"So, is that how she reacted when she saw your eyes the first time?" I inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Undertaker giggled into his ridiculously long sleeve and nodded. "This is just the equivalent reaction because you're a woman. Put your bangs back down, she'll come back to earth. Hehehehe."

I did as Undertaker suggested, and sure enough Grell was back to reality. "Did you enjoy the sight, Miss Grell?" 

"They are amazing. You have wolf's eyes, but they're not. I can't describe it. They're like Unny's but they're silver instead of green and yellow. Do they glow like his?"

"No." I had to laugh at that. I was surprised something that simple was overlooked in the Shinigami's legends, but it is what it is, and I'm here to dispel the myths at the moment. "At the time of judging, my pupils close and my irises become mirrors. Too bad they aren't the kind you can groom yourself in."

~The abomination is near.~

"Fuck!" I clutched my head and dropped to the floor beside a coffin. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! They are getting CLOSER!"

Grell looked at Undertaker expectantly. "Who's they?"

"Angels, Grell. They've been after my treasure ever since the deaths of her sisters well over a century ago," Undertaker replied solemnly. "I have to protect her. I won't let her become fodder for the angels." Both reapers looked down at me as I screamed incoherently about avenging things that I can't remember. "She's the last of her kind, Grell." Undertaker sat beside me and pulled me on his lap and into a comforting embrace. "They mean to destroy her by any means possible, and that means forcing God's hand by forcing Yoru to break protocol."

~The lice infestation is gaining numbers.~  
~~Immaculate pestilence draws near.~~

Grell looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe I can help," she said slowly. "If I can get enough reapers behind me, we can get an army together. I know my cold prince hates angels almost as much as he hates demons. And if Will knows that you and Yoru are together, we'll be sure to stop these winged lice."

"NO!" I yelled. "This isn't your fight. I have to face it on my own."

Undertaker tilted my head up with a single long finger and looked me in the eyes. Damn, he moved his bangs. This is how he always wins. "The same way you've been dealing with it for over a century," he chided. "By running from place to place until they catch up to you." He placed a soft kiss on my lips. "Let Grell help. You said that you didn't even have the power to take down the entire Holy realm by yourself." 

I conceded to the logic of the situation. He was right. "I agree, but on the condition that I deal directly with Grell. I don't do bureaucracy, therefore, she will be present at all dealings I have with the reaper realm concerning this matter. She offered her hand, I'm taking it and not letting go." I looked to Grell. "Miss Grell, in my realm concepts of friendship are slightly different. I am by nature the Wrath of God, and once you've made a pact with me in warfare, you've made a friend for life." I held my out my hand in anticipation for a brief handshake, but got an epic death hug instead, which didn't bother me at all. 

"I am fired up! I can't wait to paint those ugly angels in pretty red blood!" Grell exclaimed as she twirled around with a dreamy look in her eye. "Well darlings, I must be off. Bye bye now!"

Undertaker smiled down at me and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "My love, I need to finish with my guests for today. Do you feel like joining me?"

"Not particularly. I'm too drained right now."

"Do you sense them nearby?"

"The angels? Not right now, but I'll let you know when I do again." I gave him a pained look. "I have a headache. I think I'm going to take a nap and try to sleep it off."

"Get some rest then, lovely," he said, shooing me out of the shop. "I'll be up when I'm finished. I love you."

"I love you too, Adrian." We shared a short, sweet kiss, then went our separate ways.

I plopped down on the bed in sheer exhaustion and relief after removing my clothes. "I was emotional again today," I admonished myself. I really hated that this was taking a huge toll on me. As soon as my head hit the pillow, sleep came fast and devoid of dreams.

```Impure....```


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the happy time kudos and such. Sorry it's been a minute for the update, but to make up for it, I bring you sexy time smut!  
> For those who have issue with violent sexual encounters (consensual, of course), slight trichophilia (hair fetishism-particularly on the head), and slight blood play, then this is not the chapter for you. Consider yourself warned.  
> Now then, enjoy the show!

I woke up a few hours later. Undertaker wasn't around, and it was a damn good thing too. I still felt like shit from the overwhelming display of repulsive emotionalism earlier in the day. To top it off, the abominable sky louse was drawing near, and my sensing of it broke through the surface of my thoughts and presented itself in all its vulgarity like man after The Fall. I haven't felt so soiled in such a long time.

~Since that day.~  
~~Inquisition.~~

I stared blankly into the claw footed tub wishing I could take a ritual bath like I did in the old days before battle. Fighting demons was thrilling in more ways than one. Shivers traveled up and down my spine as I recalled the last time I singlehandedly eradicated a massive horde of high level demons. "Mmm... There's nothing more thrilling than tearing demons apart with my bare hands. If only I could dig my nails into the flesh of that angel...so tired of running...I've been..." I trailed off as I sunk into the scalding hot water, enjoying the stinging sensation on my skin. I felt cleaner already.

My voice split into its three distinct parts, but this time my howling voice took on a different set of words from the others to a song I'm not even paying attention to. I don't give a shit about the words, but I made a sudden realization that I hadn't independently split words with the voices since I saw Adrian with that whore. I was broken then, and so was he. I have been told when my voices act independently it's hypnotic, and when used in a certain combination at a certain pitch: lethal. I hardly notice, but then again, I'm the one singing. I abruptly stopped my habitual singing when I heard soft whispering a few feet away from me. I flicked my eyes open and turned around to see a bewildered Undertaker standing in the doorway. "How long have you been fucking standing there?" I coldly demanded with an equally icy glare in his direction.

"Don't stop... you..." he trailed off in an oddly detached quiet demand. "....like the Sirens... hypnotic."

"Come here, Adrian," I ordered. "Join me."

He silently obeyed. A slow smile crept over my face as he undressed, revealing a pale, lean, scarred body beneath all those layers of clothes.

~It's him.~

At least I could pass off the blushing from the heat of the water rather than my being aroused at the beautiful legend standing before me in all his naked glory. Dammit, his eyes don't help either, they always get me every time. "Come on, beautiful, get in and I'll wash your hair." That seemed to snap him out of his daze.

"How did you do that? With your voice, I mean." Undertaker curiously inquired.

"Oh, where they can speak independently?" I grabbed a bowl and filled it with water. "Scoot down, you're so tall." I poured the water over his head. "Down more, unless you want blood in your hair, and parts of your scalp missing. You're letting a weapon wash you." He complied. "That's better," I said as I gently massaged shampoo into his hair. "About my voices."

"Yes, about them." The mortician sighed after I rinsed out the shampoo and started a conditioning regimen. "You're really good at that."

"Thanks. Now then, my sisters and I were bestowed with gifts from our Creator. Mine just happens to be singing the way that I do. I don't want to talk about my sisters, so don't ask. My brother-figuratively speaking-Samael, told me that my voice is the envy of all the angels in the Holy realm. None can match it, not even the angel over music. Sam is such a flatterer." I laughed bitterly at the fleeting memory.

"Do you think that's why an entire realm of angels is after you?"

I thought for a moment. "It's possible, but that can't be the only reason why."

"What about Samael? Where is he in all this if he supposedly loves you as a sister?"

"Business in Hell," I replied sharply. "You know he's a male angel version of me, but not quite as talkative, and he's allowed to freely associate with demons. People think his appearance is frightening with all those eyes covering his body, but I think he's beautiful because of the fear he invokes in humans. I took over his job, you know, but I don't want to talk about that right now."

"Interesting," Undertaker mused. "That feels amazing. Do you like washing people's hair?"

I had been absentmindedly running my fingers through his silky silver hair long after removing the conditioners. I was simply enjoying the euphoria of the softness sliding between my fingers as I familiarized myself with the length, texture, and color of every strand. "I have a certain fetish for it," I admitted. "I especially enjoy yours. Multiple shades of silver highlighted by white, though unnoticeable unless one were to look up close." I draped my arms around his shoulders and pulled my legs closer to his body. "I've always loved your hair." He sighed as I lightly traced the scar on his face with my fingernails. "It is raining fair metal only True Death is worthy of possessing." My fingers trailed over his defined jawline, down the front of his neck, and finally settling on the choker of a scar he bears around it. I teased his piercings with my tongue, tugging the loops in his ears with my teeth, and earning a low purr in the process. "Someone's excited," I whispered seductively. I reached down between his legs and confirmed my suspicions. "Just as I thought." I teased the piercings on his other ear, earning another purr. 

"You know once you turn me on enough, I won't be able to control myself," Undertaker growled.

"That's the point," I cooed, slowly licking the back of his neck.

"You have no idea what you're up against," the legendary beauty purred darkly as he scraped his long nails up my legs.

"Challenge accepted," I replied. I pulled his hair, tilting his head back and kissed him with an electrifying passion. He opened his eyes to my sadistic grin and silver eyes shining with pure lust.

 

***Undertaker's POV***

 

Yoru laughed maniacally as she leaped out of the tub. Her long hair was spread across her scarred slender body in red and black clumps. Her smile became more menacing by the second. Her silver eyes were illuminated like stars with unbridled lust. I finally rose from my position when she brushed back her bangs, exposing the full intensity of the lust in her lupine eyes. I watched her silently goading me on to chase her to the bedroom. She swung her hips suggestively and cackled like a madwoman as I obliged. It seems I can no longer control myself around her.

"Come and get meeeee, Aaaaadriiiiiiaaaaaannn! Yooooooooouuuuuu knooooooooow you waaaaaant toooooo!" Yoru taunted as she threw her head back and laughed. Then, she suddenly disappeared and I felt a sharp pain in my back. "Aaaadrian, come get me or I'll kick you harder." She circled back in front of me. "I haven't been this excited in years. Indulge me." Her eyes had an otherworldly, primordial lust mixed with the pleasure of her own sadism.

~She's the One.~  
~~de Sade's muse.~~

My eyes were aglow with their own primal lust as I felt a leer curling my lips. She outdid mine with a true sadist's leer, exposing her sharp teeth. For a while we sized each other up like animals fighting for territory until I lunged at her. She easily bested me with her own fighting abilities, howling with mad laughter all the time without regard to the bloodshed. The more we fought, the more aroused we became, especially her. She was proving difficult to pin down until she tried to jump over me, and that's when I used my height to my advantage, snatching her out of the air by her throat and pinning her against the wall. That sadistic grin of hers never faltered from her lovely face. She growled at me and shot her legs out, closing them around my waist. 

"Do you yield?" I growled.

"Adrian, I yield to no one." Yoru pulled me closer with her legs, crossing them behind my back, essentially trapping me in the iron grip of her thighs. As she casually stretched her arms over her head, I realized that even though I had her suspended by the throat, the control I had over her was an illusion. "We've only just begun, my love."

"So we have," I replied with my trademark grin that I know she loves.

Yoru raked her long fingers through my hair, obviously aroused by the feel of it sliding between her fingers. "I want you, Adrian," she quietly whispered. With a surprising quickness she pulled me forward by the hair and licked the scar across my face.

"I can't control myself any longer," I breathed against the Supreme being's lips. "I have to have all of you."

"Let us lose control," she replied. "You are mine, Adrian."

"Yoru..." 

"Shhh... you are mine and I am yours."

There was something beautiful about this sadistic love confession.

~She's the One.~  
~~Only with her, it's beautiful.~~

"Yoru, I am yours and you are mine." With that, I entered her with a hard thrust. I moved my free hand to hold on to her waist. She moved as I moved, and seemed to take great joy in being choked. I felt her nails dig into my neck as she returned the favor.

"Adrian..." she growled. Her lupine eyes blazing, unsated silver lust. With a fierce suddenness, she bit my neck hard enough to draw blood, then flicked her tongue over the wound, licking up the blood just to bite down harder. It only made me hungrier for her as I replaced my hand with teeth around her throat with equal force. I slammed her against the wall, a pleasured howl escaped her mouth as her sharp nails ripped apart my flesh as she ran them down my back. The pain made me move faster and harder, her movements still in sync with mine. She looked at me with ferocious lust as she removed her hands from my back. The sadistic smile that I'm ever so in love with spread over her face as she seductively twisted her tongue around each of her fingers, expertly cleaning my blood from each digit without faltering once.

"Yoru..." I growled. I threw her on the bed, looming over her. She seemed to have other ideas and flipped me over on my back, straddling me. The animalistic creature yanked me up by my hair and kissed me, biting my lip. I bit back. She wrapped the small braid I always wear around my neck and pulled. "I want..."

"Shhh.... it's my turn," Yoru said smiling down at me with a lusty gaze. Using the braid wrapped around my neck, she pulled my body close to hers, crossed her legs behind my back, and rode me like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. She arched her body into mine as I scratched my nails down her back. She ground her hips faster while clutching me closer to her and winding her fingers through my hair. My movements matched hers in a perfect dance of love and pain. 

~She is the One.~

I bit down on the side of her neck and toyed with the wound with my tongue. I bit down again, and at the same time I carved bloody channels into the sadistic beauty's back. I thrust harder, and she came down on me with equal force. I bit the other side of her neck as she cried out in pleasure, "Oh, my death god! Yes!"

"Will you sing for me, love?" I cooed. I thrust deep inside her as she came down on me like the Wrath of God she is. I kissed her neck on all her favorite spots and licked her from the collarbone and over the throat until our lips met in a heated kiss. I gave her a hard thrust upward at just the right angle, hitting her spot.

Her voice split into its three independent parts. "ADRIAN!" cried the first.  
"Oh my fucking death god!" growled the second.  
"You're mine!" howled the third. All of them pleasurably released simultaneously from one Supreme being's lips.

In the intense heat of her passion, Yoru bit my neck just below my right ear and scratched her sharp nails down my chest. "YORU!" I called out, pulling her against me. We stared at each other briefly with unsated hunger lurking in our eyes. Both of us bit each other on the neck simultaneously, then sweet release. Yoru collapsed on top of me, nuzzling into my neck, occasionally licking the mark she left. I held her close. "I am yours," I softly declared, kissing her gently on the crown of her head. "And you are mine."

Yoru snaked her limbs around me in a most possessive manner and placed a sweet kiss on my throat. "That's right, Adrian," she said with a satisfied grin. "You are mine and I am yours. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doesn't it make up for my OC's emotionalism from the last chapter?


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for happy time kudos and such as well as stopping by for story time. Yay!  
> William is a bit OOC, but I have my reasons which are evident in the chapter.  
> **There is brief mention of transgender issues. You have been warned.***  
> Anyway, enjoy!

"Yoru, wake up..." I poked the sleeping treasure on the shoulder. 

"Nnnyah...go fuck yourself, it's too early," she mumbled sleepily.

I poked her again, ready to jump away. I knew I was about to incur her wrath, but her angel problem was turning into a lice infestation in the reaper realm. "Yoru, wake up now! Grell came by with terrible news-"

"I said go fuck yourself!" Silver eyes blazed with insane wrath. "I don't know who you are or why you're here, but get the fuck away from me!" Sharp nails dug into my neck as she lifted me up with one hand. "What did you do with them? Where are they?" 

~She doesn't recognize me?~  
~~She's not here, but she is.~~

"Yo-ru," I choked from under the crushing grip of her supernatural strength. She was staring wild eyed like a rabid animal right through me from a different reality. At that moment I realized she was trapped in a waking nightmare based on a past memory

~Manipulation.~  
~~Why?~~

caught between the reality of sleep and that of being awake. "It's Adrian, don't you remember?"

"Who the fuck are you?" she shrieked in my face. Her clouded eyes darted aimlessly around the room, obviously unable to recognize where she was. "Tell me what I want to know or I kill you where you stand." 

I dug my nails into her wrist not caring if it helped my predicament or not. It only seemed to fuel her rage further because the next thing I knew I was on my back with a totally insane, bloodthirsty Supreme being pinning me to the floor ready to literally rip me apart with her bare hands. I managed to free one of my hands and push my bangs out of my face hoping she'd find her way back to the reality she belonged in.

~With me.~  
~~To me.~~

"Yoru! Look at me!" I shouted over her crazed ramblings. With my free hand, I risked grabbing the creature of Wrath by the chin and forcing her to look me in the eyes. She ceased her incoherent screaming and the tarnish slowly disappeared from her silver orbs the longer they were pierced by coaxing acid green glow of mine. The primeval snarl on her face disappeared, and the clouded, bloodthirsty insanity was replaced with confusion in her eyes. The bone crushing power emanating from her form ceased as soon as she remembered where she was and who she was about to tear asunder. "Yoru, love, are you with me?"

"Adrian? Did I try to kill you in my sleep again?" Her lupine eyes held within them eons of regret she'd never willingly express openly. "Let me see... Oh, Kami! Your poor neck. I'm so sorry." I shivered at the feeling of her tongue winding over the deep puncture wounds her nails left around my neck. "All better, my love. Were you trying to wake me?" 

~She tried to kill me before?~  
~~She's the One.~~  
~Pure unadulterated Wrath.~~

"When did you try to kill me in my sleep before?"

"I'm sure I've tried. I don't remember anymore. Perhaps it was a nightmare. At times, I find myself questioning reality," Yoru mused. "It's worse when I'm between wakefulness and slumber."

"I see," I said in realization of my mistake. "It was important that I wake you, my dear. It seems our lice infestation has spread to the reaper realm as well."

"You're telling me that that fucking abomination is spreading her whoredoms to... How do you know this?" Her eyes flashed in maddening fury.

"Grell paid me a visit this morning. They're trying to find your sisters' records from their time as humans," I replied gravely. "We need to go. Now." 

 

***Yoru's POV***

 

I threw on a deep crimson velvet floor length duster over my usual ensemble. I gave myself a sadistic grin as I swept the last line up on my eyeliner. "Canis dirus," I said to my uncaring reflection. "Holy shit," I mouthed as soon as I made my egress from the bathroom. I haven't seen Undertaker look that amazing in a very long time (naked doesn't count, that's a given). He forwent the funeral getup in favor of a white button down shirt with the top three buttons undone, allowing the scar on his chest to peek out just a little bit; skin tight black leather pants; and heavily buckled thigh high boots. His silver hair was in an elegant ponytail tied off with a black ribbon just like in his days as an active reaper. His expression was deadly serious which highlighted the severity of angular planes of his facial structure as well as the natural upturns of his mouth. I must have been as red as my coat from my heated blushing. He looked so amazing. I almost didn't care if the world ended, I wanted to tear his clothes off with my teeth and not let him leave the shop.

~Oh my Death god, this is the definition of perfection.~

"See anything you like?" Undertaker asked with a smirk.

I blushed even more, unsure if I could get any redder.

~I swear I'm going to have a coronary if my heart doesn't stop beating so damn fast.~

"Uh-huh," I finally uttered. "I like a lot."

Undertaker looked me up and down with a trace of a leer on his lips. "I see something I like a lot, too." Without warning he had me against the wall in a delirious kiss. My hand found its way to his ponytail twisted itself in the softness. I closed my eyes and felt like melting... again. Damn Undertaker, he's good at what he does.

"I'm going to tear your clothes off with my teeth and fuck you until you scream my name like a little girl when we get back home," I purred. I nuzzled his cheek, then took a quick nibble at his ear, flicking the loop with my tongue.

Undertaker still had me against the wall, refusing to budge, instead he drew me into an embrace and tilted my head up with one of his lovely fingers. "I'll be looking forward to it," he replied with a barely disguised lusty glow in his piercing eyes. Again, I was a melting flesh puddle in one of his intense kisses. Damn him.

 

#####################################################################################################

 

***Undertaker's POV***

 

"Oh wow!" Yoru gasped as I sealed the portal to the reaper realm with my Death scythe. "It's even more magnificent up close! May I see it?" She stared at the weapon with childlike wonder. "I promise I won't do anything stupid." I reluctantly agreed. I did go through a lot of trouble to keep my scythe, so I'm apprehensive to even let Yoru handle it. But, how can I say no to that gorgeous face? She gingerly accepted the scythe from me, running her fingers over the blade ever so gently to avoid cutting herself. A twisted grin etched itself on her face as her fingers ghosted the crown of thorns winding into the skull's mouth, then moved her hand further down the rib cage in a sensual caress

~Like a lover.~  
~~Me.~~

until it reached the hilt. Her eyes took on a look of single minded determination, the twisted grin grew sadistic, and she disappeared from this reality again. This time, however, it was beautiful to watch as she wielded my Death scythe with deadly fluid motion. At times she seemed to freeze in mid air before vanishing altogether, manipulating time with graceful aerobatic maneuvers while at one with the weapon.

~A weapon wielding a weapon.~ 

She silently landed in front of me and held out my scythe. "This is an extension of you, not just a mere tool or weapon. It's absolutely impeccable, Adrian. I can feel your energy pulsing through the metal. This IS yours. You earned your scars well. A weapon is a reflection of their owner, not of who their owner is."

I hadn't realized that I was staring at Yoru like she was from another planet until she smacked me upside the head. "What in the seventh circle of hell?"

"Adrian, I was trying to get your attention for the past several minutes, but you were staring at me like I grew an extra head? Did I? More incentive for me to fuck myself." She chuckled at her own bad humor.

I banished my scythe that I noticed that I was still holding on to. "Yoru," I growled, pulling her unexpectedly close to me. "I am never letting you go. Ever."

"I wasn't planning on leaving, my love," she replied, lacing her fingers through mine as we began walking toward the Great Library.

"You wield my Death scythe like an extension of yourself. It's quite odd, considering it takes a long time for one to become attuned to one's scythe."

"Really, Adrian, that was my first time handling a Death scythe, let alone yours, specifically. I am Kami's Soul. Perhaps that has something to do with it." A wistful bloodthirsty look gleamed in her silver lupine eyes. "Just think, a weapon wielding a weapon! The total devastation! Why, I could kickstart the Apocalypse if I wanted to. Heeheeeheheeee!" Yoru danced madly at her own destructive notions. "Wouldn't it beeeeeeeeeee fuuuuuuunnnn!" I was suddenly caught in the frenzied whirlwind of her dancing. "I hate angels," she stated flatly. Her dancing ceased with her sudden mood shift. "We'll destroy them all."

"Of course we will." I kissed her hand and a blush rose up on her cheeks. "Here we are," I said as I opened the door to the main lobby to the Great Library.

"Oh my Death god! Is that you?" Yoru exclaimed, looking back and forth between myself and that monstrosity that the Council decided to dump funding into producing.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, it's me, and there's paintings too. No, I'm not showing you, so don't ask," I said pointedly. "personally, I think the statue is a waste of space and funding. The money could have gone toward bonuses for the decent field agents instead of worshiping the Legendary Death in the form of an oversized idol." I sneered at the statue as I do every time I have the misfortune of looking upon it. "William should be here any minute."

Yoru raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall asking for a William, only Grell. Who is William?"

"Grell's boss. Grell will-"

"Look, Adrian, it's Grell. Hi Grell!" Yoru ran toward the redhead who was bounding toward us at top speed, the two of them colliding in an epic death hug. Yoru wasn't kidding about warfare pacts. She loves the little rose like a sister already.

"Hello, darlings!" Grell greeted as she and Yoru approached me arm in arm.

"Sutcliff! Shouldn't you be working?" The clicking of William's pruners flying through the air accompanied his gruff inquiry. Yoru's quick reflexes kicked in, and the pole stopped short of making impact with Grell's head while the wielder of said object twitched his eyebrow in irritation at the hand holding it in place. Irritation turned to shock when the sound of buckling metal was heard coming from within Yoru's grasp.

~Supreme Wrath.~

I doubled over laughing at the look on William's face. So priceless. Heeheeheee! Grell opened one eye in disbelief. Yoru still gripped William's Death scythe in one hand with a hard look in her beautiful silver eyes.

"I assume you're this William gentleman that my Undertaker speaks of," Yoru's tone was colder than ice and sharper than a Death scythe. "I must ask you not to hit my friend, Grell. She is the one of whom I requested assistance. As I understand it, Shinigami are bureaucratic, however, as an Observer, I deal directly with those of whom I make requests. I was also informed that you are Grell's superior, which means I will have to deal with you as well being that I am in your realm asking your assistance. I was also made to understand this morning that my problems have now become yours. I have yet to see any lice flying around, let alone sense any, but this is a big realm. I was also informed that these pieces of, pardon the language, shit are looking for the Cinematic Records belonging to my sisters from the human portions of their lives. Am I being told the truth?" Cold, emotionless eyes scanned the Dispatch manager, then without warning his scythe was torn out of his hand and thrown clear across the lobby. 

William adjusted his glasses. "Very well, I'll agree to your terms and allow Mr. Sutcliff-"

"Miss Sutcliff," Yoru calmly corrected him.

"I'll allow Miss Sutcliff to assist you," he huffed. "Everything else is true and we have taken extra security measures in the Library as we are concerned about them tampering with other records as well."

"Thank you," Yoru said coolly. "I doubt they're interested in other humans, though it would be an excellent distraction."

I cleared my throat. "William, we're all here for a reason. We need to get our shit together now. We need an army."

"What do you suggest I do about it, Undertaker? Upper management will still require the necessary paperwork be filled out," William complained.

"Then I will go over their head," Yoru stated with authority. "I don't think upper management understands the seriousness of the situation. I don't think you do either. Did you even listen to Grell when she told you about me or are you to concerned about yourself and overtime?"

William looked down at his feet. The notorious hardass actually looked ashamed. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

"I thought as much. You know, Grell might be flighty, but she's smarter than you give her credit for. When someone she cares about is in trouble, she'll go through hell to protect them. You should be nicer to her, and stop hitting her with that damn Death scythe of yours. I like her because she doesn't conform. She's beautiful, and I sense immense power within her. She is of two natures, not one, like the rest of you lot, so I suggest treating her with the respect she requires as the Divine being she is. Spare me the bullshit about gender confusion. In the eyes of Kami, Grell is perfect. She is meant to be the way she is." Yoru put an arm around Grell who was starting to tear up because someone finally stood up for her to the man she'd been chasing for well over a century. I, on the other hand, was enjoying the tongue lashing William T. Spears was receiving from my treasure. Yoru continued, "The situation is dire William. I am the last Observer. As we are all aware, my sisters are dead. Long story short, they committed a grave sin by mating with humans resulting in their being turned into humans by the Will of the Creator. Shinigami are the offshoot of Observers. Without us there would be no you. I am the one currently holding the balance between your realm and mine."

William nodded, indicating that he understood.

"Do any of you besides Undertaker know of Samael?" Yoru inquired.

"Isn't he an angel?" Grell asked, narrowing her feline eyes. "And doesn't he hang out in Hell a lot?"

"Yes, and he used to do ascensions before I took over," Yoru replied. "The last one he did was thousands of years ago. Since Shinigami have relieved some of the burdens of the Observers, I took over ascensions. None of you are qualified or authorized to handle that kind of judgement, not even Undertaker. Some of the zealots I've judged have been more corrupt than demons, so count yourselves lucky. You will also notice that those up for judgement for ascensions have no Cinematic Records because they never truly die. If they aren't worthy to be in the presence of my Creator, I send them straight to the Hidden Circle of Hell, if they are worthy, they accompany me to the Holy Realm to live without having tasted Death."

"You're the only way you can escape me," I quipped.

"Rarely, and it depends on the contributions to your faith. I, of course, am the final Judge. I have also noticed something else. Undertaker, you were not born human in a previous life like the other reapers, you were created." Yoru's silver stare bored right through me and it was intimidating to say the least. "You never needed glasses, did you? Of course not. Though your eyes are the same color as everyone else's, they're different in that they are incapable of lying as they lack that base human reaction. You are literally Death incarnate. You couldn't escape yourself even through me."

Grell spoke up, "Will, Yoru's right, this is an emergency. Let her go to the Council. You said yourself upper management will just make you fill out paperwork. They'll listen to her. Please, Will?"

"William," I growled. "We don't have time for protocol if your realm is being infested by these disgusting lice. I suggest taking us to the Council Chambers immediately, boy. I will not have my treasure fall prey to angels or anyone for that matter!" I embraced Yoru protectively and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, Adrian," she whispered.

"I love you, too."

William sighed in exasperation. "Very well, follow me," he said with resignation.

"Thank you," Yoru and I said in unison as Grell cheered.

The four of us walked to the Council Chambers in silence. I'm sure our demands will be met taking into consideration who's making them.

 

***Yoru's POV***

 

I was holding Undertaker's and Grell's hands and skipping through the hallway bitching about the sour faces of the Council members and laughing about how they practically trembled in fear of me. William was walking some distance behind us, shaking his head at my sudden mood shift. "Come on, Will, smile. I got those motherfuckers in upper management reprimanded for you, and the one that hates Undertaker got sacked. Making you fill out paperwork for an army when they know full well there's a lice infestation? Tch. I saved you a ton of overtime from drowning in paperwork alone and I managed to kick in a holiday for you. Thank Grell for that suggestion. I wasn't going to do it, but she begged me and I couldn't say no to that pretty face."

William cracked a ghost of a smile and muttered his thanks.

"Undertaker! He smiled! William smiled! I knew the thought of a holiday would make him smile!" I exclaimed happily. Blissfully unaware of my surroundings, I turned and knocked over a blond and black haired kid with a lawnmower. "Dammit!"

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" the blond reaper yelled.

"I'm sorry about that." I looked down at him with an embarrassed grin. He flinched when I held my hand out to offer him assistance from his place on the floor.

~I scare people when I'm embarrassed.~  
~~Sadistic grins.~~

"It's rude to ignore someone offering you assistance," I teased, placing a hand on my hip.

The young reaper looked behind me. "Spears-senpai, Grell-senpai, 'Taker! Who's this?" he asked, jerking a thumb at me.

William extended his backup Death scythe and smacked the blond on the head. "Ronald Knox, don't you know a living legend when you see one? I suggest you apologize."

I giggled. "Good call, Will." He didn't seem to mind me calling him Will. Getting the frosty bastard out of the office for a while probably helped in that regard.

"Sorry, Undertaker," the kid's apology was laced with the barest hint of sarcasm.

William smacked him on the head again, this time hard enough to make a little bit of blood squirt out. "Try again unless you want unpaid overtime."

"Hey! I said I was sorry Spears-senpai!" The blond reaper winced as he rubbed his sore head. "I only see one legend anyway," he muttered under his breath.

Undertaker bent down with a sinister grin plastered on his face (I love it when he gets creepy), and without regard to the young man's personal space, was within inches of his face, practically scaring the piss out of him. "While it flatters me that you believe that I'm the only legend alive in this room, I'll have you know that you're wrong, Mr. Knox. If you ever took time out of your day to perhaps look into the legends of our realm, then you'd be aware that you are in the presence of the First Daughter of the Seven Daughters of God. So, if you value your life, I'd apologize before she kills you. Her moods do tends to change faster than lightning."

I waved at Ronald. "Hi."

Ronald looked back and forth between myself and Undertaker with scrutinizing eyes. The gears in his head clicked into place at his realization. "She's yours, isn't she?"

"And I'm hers," Undertaker replied with the sinister grin ever present on his beautiful face.

Ronald scrambled to his feet, an embarrassed flush colored his cheeks as he approached me. "I'm sorry about being so rude to you, Miss..."

"Yoru," I replied, stifling a fit of manic giggles. "I'll let you live. My mood is glorious at the moment."

Undertaker turned to William, all business, no smiles. "I need to borrow Grell for a while if that's ok with you."

"That is fine with me." William focused his attention on me. "Seeing as how the Council granted your request as well as properly assessed the situation concerning our realm, I will have as many reapers ready to fight within one day."

"Thanks Will. I'm grateful for your help." Out of impulse I gave him a hug, and to my surprise he hugged me back. "Come Grell, you get to hang out with me and Undertaker!" I said in a lower voice, "We may need you to get to Sebastian for us depending on the circumstances."

Grell's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, yeah!"


	10. pulling the plug

This isn't an actual chapter as you may have surmised. I'm tired of this particular story as it is not my style. I was challenging myself to see if I could write in a style somewhat out of my element, but my mind isn't accustomed to such things and neither is my stomach (metaphorically speaking, of course). Besides, I've been much more devoted to a different fic that suits my style of writing than this one. Sorry to disappoint anyone who may have enjoyed this story. I just thought I'd be nice and give this fic the public execution it deserves. Thanks for reading. I appreciate it.


End file.
